


I love you

by dramatickoala



Category: 100 Dias Para Enamorarse
Genre: M/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:03:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15982370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramatickoala/pseuds/dramatickoala
Summary: Fidel and Paul have sex. This is it. There's no plot. It's just pwp.(I'm sorry this isn't in Spanish but as stated on Twitter: I can understand spanish but I'm not fluent so I wouldn't be able to write anything) (also synaesthesia is kicking my ass, I don't think I'll ever be able to write or speak in spanish in anyway)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is bottom!Paul, Chapter 2 is bottom!Fidel.  
> Exactly the same story. Some details aren't exactly the same, but the difference is that I made two versions for those who prefer top!fidel and those who prefer top!paul.

Fidel is washing his hands when Paul walks in and closes the door behind him. He leans against it for a moment. “What do you want Paul?” Fidel asks with a little laugh. Paul’s look is enough to know it’s nothing about the cafeteria or his classes. Paul just smiles wider and locks the door. “Nothing.” He says slowly, drawing out the word, walking up to Fidel.

Fidel shakes his head. “Paul, not here.” He says as he dries his hands. Paul takes the paper out of his hands. Throws it in the nearby bin.

He looks back up at Fidel. “Why not? Classes have just begun, there’s no one in the corridor. I checked.” His voice is low, raspy. And it goes straight to Fidel’s groin.

“Not here.” He whispers. Paul is so close, so damn close, he can’t resist. He tries to take a step back but Paul grabs him by the waist. Buries his head in his neck, bites his exposed skin. “Paul, stop.” But Paul doesn’t. Fidel tries to push him back with his hands to his chest. Paul lets him push him off, with a smile, clearly wanting more.

“Are you sure you don’t want this?” He casts one look at Fidel’s obvious bulge in his pants.

“Paul.”

“Hmhm…” Paul leans forward, Fidel leans back, trying to get out of his reach but the wall is right behind him.

“We can’t.” His voice is stuck in his throat. He’s so damn horny. “Not here.” The back of his head is against the wall, he can barely breath. Paul is right against him, his thigh against his groin. Both of them so damn hard. They haven’t had sex in ages, with Azul being there, then Rodrigo, then Amparo. Then both their family. They’ve tried but they never had the time or they were too busy. Too damn busy being there for other people and never for each other.

Paul’s hands are on his neck. “Yes or no?” He asks in a very low, very deep voice that does things to Fidel.

“Yes.” The word barely escapes his lips that Paul shuts him off with a kiss. A deep, demanding kiss, full of lust. Their chests are touching, there’s too many layers separating them. So hands start moving, undoing the buttons on Fidel’s cardigans and Paul’s shirt, lifting everything above their head and discarding it on the floor, not caring one bit if they get dirty. Skin against skin, it feels so much better. Mouths find each other, hands grab and stroke and never let go.

They part, for a short breath. Looking into each other’s eyes. They’re in another world altogether. One where nothing matters but them and their needs and desire.

Fidel’s hands grab Paul by the waist, pulling him against him as much as he can, trying to get friction. He needs friction, he needs movement, he needs something. He needs Paul’s hands on his body. And Paul delivers.

His hands start undoing his belt, while his mouth attacks Fidel’s neck. He’s going to leave a mark but right now, Fidel can’t bring himself to care. His head is thrown back against the cold tiles, his back is off the wall, arched, pushing into Paul.

Paul’s hands bring his pants down just enough, and with them his underwear. The cool air hits his skin and creates a contrast with Paul’s warm hands that get to work.  He leans his head forward, hiding his face in Paul’s neck. His own hands grabbing onto Paul’s sides, unable to do anything else.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Fidel starts. “What if a student comes in?”

Paul cups his face, his thumb stroking his lips. “The door’s locked.” He says before kissing him. Biting his lower lip, opening his mouth, inviting him in, as his hand move to grab his hair.

With a twist of Paul’s wrist, Fidel moans loudly, echoing against the tiles. He stops moving for a moment, scared the whole school heard it. But Paul’s hands bring him back to what they’re doing. Stroking him at the right pace, exactly how he likes it. “Oh god.”

“You like this, huh.” Paul says in a breath.

“I do.” Fidel bites his lower lip, looking at Paul’s face, as if it had been carved out of marble by one of the great… He can’t remember any artist’s name right now, but it’s a damn good one. He gets lost in Paul’s eyes for a moment. Blue, like the hottest part of a flame. “I like you.” He lets the words pass his lips, not realizing exactly what he says.

“Oh?” Paul moves back, as if stopping everything altogether.

“I love you.” Fidel whispers and grabs him, pushing their body back together.

“I like that better.” Paul replies in a whisper as well, his voice deep and hoarse. Then he kisses him. Hard. His hand tightening its grip on him, keeping him on edge.

He breaks the kiss, takes his hand off Fidel who moans and leans forward, chasing him, craving his touch. Fidel frowns as he watches him take a good look at him.

“You’re gorgeous.”

Fidel looks down at himself. Shirtless, pants pushed down to his knees. There’s probably a better sight than this. But right now, he doesn’t care. All he cares about is Paul, closer, kissing him, doing things to him. Anything. Something.

And Paul delivers yet again.

He gets down on his knees, push Fidel back against the wall. Takes him in his hand and brings him to his lips. The skin is warm. Paul’s lips are wet. And everything Fidel needed. One hand flat against the tiles, the other grabs onto the nearby counter as Paul takes him in his mouth and starts some slow movement with his hand. This is too much. They’re going to get caught. He’s going to come too fast.

Thankfully, Paul knows exactly what to do to keep him on the edge. The right amount of pressure, the right speed.

Fidel opens his eyes when Paul takes his mouth off him. He’s grinning up at him, taking a breath. He keeps his gaze locked into Fidel’s eyes as he darts his tongue out and licks up from base to head. Hands following the movement, stroking him slowly. Fidel can’t help but grab Paul’s head, stroke his hair. Gently pushing him back against him. So Paul takes him in his mouth again. This time, he goes as low as he can. Comes back up, before sucking him in again.

Just the sight of Paul taking him in could be enough to send him over the edge, but Paul is really, really good at this game. He stops and Fidel moans from the lack of action, suction, anything.

“Paul…” He growls. Paul smiles wider. Fidel knows he loves to draw it out, make it last. But they don’t have time. “Come on, Paul.” And yet again, Paul takes him in his mouth.

-

It’s the moans that wake him up, but it’s Fidel’s hand grabbing his wrist that forces him to open his eyes. Fidel’s are closed, his whole body tense. Paul feels his heart racing before he realizes Fidel is dreaming. His breaths are short, sweat drops on his forehead. And a visible bulge in his underwear.

Paul smiles at that sight. Fidel is having sexy dream. A really good one, it seems. He gets closer, his lips ghosting over Fidel’s. Pondering if he should wake him with a kiss. Or something better…

He lets his hand wander over Fidel’s body, not yet touching him. He looks down, slides his hand under the covers, under the underwear and takes Fidel in hand.

The feeling of a warm hand on his body wakes Fidel up. He opens his eyes to Paul looking back at him. He frowns, not understanding. One second ago, Paul was blowing him in a bathroom. “What….?”

“You were dreaming.” Paul tells him as he moves closer, buries his head in Fidel’s neck, breathing in deeply, loving the scent of him. “About me, I hope.” He adds in a chuckle.

“Yeah… Yeah.” Fidel says as he gently grabs his head and breaks their embrace. He looks at Paul’s face. Sees the desire in his eyes. Sees the love. They really are here, in their bed, at home. In the middle of the night. “We were…having sex in a bathroom. At the school.”

“Huh huh…” Is all Paul says, grinning wider.

“We’re not doing that.” Fidel shakes his head. “We’re never doing that. I’m not up for it.”

“Ah si? But you are up right now.” Paul’s smile makes Fidel’s heart jump in his ribcage. He loves this man so much. And he intends to prove it to him. He leans in and kisses him. Slow, taking his time. No one is going to stop them.

His hands push Paul back against the bed, and Fidel moves on top of him to straddle him. He hands stroking Paul’s hair move lower, to rest on his chest, holding him up. “I love you.” He says in a breath, kissing Paul again before he says anything. And Paul lets him. Responds to him by kissing him harder, hand grabbing his hair exactly how Fidel likes it. Hard, but not too much. Just enough to feel the pull but not to hurt.

They break the kiss to breath, and Fidel sits back onto Paul’s thighs, appreciating the sight. They both sleep shirtless, but not naked and right now there are layers of clothes separating them that Fidel would like gone. So he moves off of Paul, and takes the matter into his own hands. He slides the underwear off his legs, then takes his own off.

He looks back at Paul who had been watching him, also appreciating the sight. Fidel shakes his head as he sits back down on the bed by Paul’s side. “What?” Paul exclaims with a smile. “Your butt is pretty fine!” He lets his hand wander down Fidel’s body, resting it on the small of his back, just above his butt.

“I’ve heard it is, indeed.” Fidel cocks his head, smiling proudly. Paul chuckles and moves to kneel beside Fidel.

“Oh you heard? Who’s been telling you?” He leans in, whispering.

“A very naked man…” Fidel trails a finger down his chest. “Currently in my bed.”

“My bed!” Paul exclaims as he pushes Fidel back onto the bed and straddles him.

“Our bed.” Fidel says to settle the matter. He smiles, Paul smiles back. There’s no other place he would like to be. Everything he needs is right here.

“I love you.” Paul says. His voice is calm, but his soul isn’t. There’s a tempest in there, feelings overcoming him. And it shows in his eyes. He never said those words before, he never said them and meant them this much.

Fidel fills his heart swelling. Saying those words felt like a huge step to him, but hearing them, that’s quite something else. Before he lets himself be overcome by feelings and reflections about his life and everything that’s changed to the point he’s naked, in a bed, with a man who he loves making love to- He stops that train of thoughts and kisses said man. His man. His boyfriend. His lover. His partner. His everything.

Paul deepens the kiss as he lowers his body. Their skin touch, and it’s like a fire is awakened. The kiss turns into a hungry one, bodies colliding, hands moving quickly, stroking the other’s hair, their back, grabbing onto each other’s thighs.

They move together, as one, bodies connected from their mouth to their chest to their groin to their tangled legs. Everything they need is right here.

Hands start to move from grabbing onto each other’s bodies to moving in-between their bodies. Stroking at the right pace, with the right pressure.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Fidel says, out of breath, resting his forehead against Paul’s shoulder. “Wait.”

“What?” Paul whispers against his ear, hands moving from in between them to stroke Fidel’s hair.

“Let’s take our time.”

“Okay.” Paul replies, pushing Fidel’s head up, before slowly kissing his lips.

“Maybe not that slow.” Fidel adds as he moves back. Paul grins before stealing one kiss and suddenly moving away.  He turns around, extends his arm, reaches for the nightstand and grabs the lube sitting beside the lamp.

He moves back into his place and gives the lube to Fidel. He takes it, opens it and coats his fingers. Paul steals one more kiss before turning around again.

He lays on his back, propping his head on his arms, spreading his legs. Fidel moves closer, his body right against Paul’s. He kisses his shoulder, leaves a trail of kisses down his back to his butt. With one experienced hand, he applies some of the lube before pushing one finger inside.

Paul hisses at the feeling of a finger breaching him. They haven’t done this in way too long. Fidel kisses his back, stroking his thigh with his free hand.

It doesn’t take long for Paul to warm up to it and for Fidel to add another finger. Then a third.

Paul isn’t exactly writhing underneath him but he’s close to when Fidel finally takes his fingers out and slides a condom on. He stops right before doing anything else. He moves back up to Paul’s face, kisses his shoulder again then with a hand, guides him to turn around. “I wanna see your face.” He simply says. Paul grins and kisses him.

Paul’s legs embracing his own as he settles on top of him. He kisses Paul some more as Paul gets more and more needy, rutting against him.

“Not that slow you said.” Paul says as he breaks the kiss. “Come on.”

Fidel smiles, kisses Paul one more time before guiding himself in.

Paul throws his head back moaning, and Fidel can’t help himself but kiss his exposed throat. He stops moving for a minute, letting Paul adjust to it. Then he starts thrusting into him slowly, speeding things up along with Paul’s throaty moans.

And Paul urges him on, hands grabbing onto his back, holding him close, legs locking behind Fidel’s back.

Their bodies move, as one. Thrusting, moaning, grabbing.

Paul’s head thrown back doesn’t come back down until his muscles tense up and he comes onto their bellies. Tightening up around Fidel who bites into his shoulder and comes as well.

They hold onto each other for a long moment, catching their breath. Fidel leaves a trail of kisses from Paul’s shoulder to his lips. Kissing him slowly until he needs to lay beside him, his arms no longer holding him up. Paul unlocks his legs and lets him go, still catching his own breath.

He turns his face to look at him. Hair sticking to his forehead because of the sweat, eyes closed and regaining his breath. Fidel is gorgeous. And he is his. He kisses him on the cheek and turns around, grabbing some tissues from the night stand. He cleans himself up, then Fidel and throws the tissues in the bin beside their bed.

Once that is done, he settles by Fidel’s side, one arm across Fidel’s chest, his head close enough he can kiss Fidel’s cheek once more.

“I love you.” He whispers.

Fidel turns to face him. “I love you too.” He replies with a smile.


	2. Fidel bottoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fidel bottoms :)

Fidel is washing his hands when Paul walks in and closes the door behind him. He leans against it for a moment. “What do you want Paul?” Fidel asks with a little laugh. Paul’s look is enough to know it’s nothing about the cafeteria or his classes. Paul just smiles wider and locks the door. “Nothing.” He says slowly, drawing out the word, walking up to Fidel.

Fidel shakes his head. “Paul, not here.” He says as he dries his hands. Paul takes the paper out of his hands. Throws it in the nearby bin.

He looks back up at Fidel. “Why not? Classes have just begun, there’s no one in the corridor. I checked.” His voice is low, raspy. And it goes straight to Fidel’s groin.

“Not here.” He whispers. Paul is so close, so damn close, he can’t resist. He tries to take a step back but Paul grabs him by the waist. Buries his head in his neck, bites his exposed skin. “Paul, stop.” But Paul doesn’t. Fidel tries to push him back with his hands to his chest. Paul lets him push him off, with a smile, clearly wanting more.

“Are you sure you don’t want this?” He casts one look at Fidel’s obvious bulge in his pants.

“Paul.”

“Hmhm…” Paul leans forward, Fidel leans back, trying to get out of his reach but the wall is right behind him.

“We can’t.” His voice is stuck in his throat. He’s so damn horny. “Not here.” The back of his head is against the wall, he can barely breath. Paul is right against him, his thigh against his groin. Both of them so damn hard. They haven’t had sex in ages, with Azul being there, then Rodrigo, then Amparo. Then both their family. They’ve tried but they never had the time or they were too busy. Too damn busy being there for other people and never for each other.

Paul’s hands are on his neck. “Yes or no?” He asks in a very low, very deep voice that does things to Fidel.

“Yes.” The word barely escapes his lips that Paul shuts him off with a kiss. A deep, demanding kiss, full of lust. Their chests are touching, there’s too many layers separating them. So hands start moving, undoing the buttons on Fidel’s cardigans and Paul’s shirt, lifting everything above their head and discarding it on the floor, not caring one bit if they get dirty. Skin against skin, it feels so much better. Mouths find each other, hands grab and stroke and never let go.

They part, for a short breath. Looking into each other’s eyes. They’re in another world altogether. One where nothing matters but them and their needs and desire.

Fidel’s hands grab Paul by the waist, pulling him against him as much as he can, trying to get friction. He needs friction, he needs movement, he needs something. He needs Paul’s hands on his body. And Paul delivers.

His hands start undoing his belt, while his mouth attacks Fidel’s neck. He’s going to leave a mark but right now, Fidel can’t bring himself to care. His head is thrown back against the cold tiles, his back is off the wall, arched, pushing into Paul.

Paul’s hands bring his pants down just enough, and with them his underwear. The cool air hits his skin and creates a contrast with Paul’s warm hands that get to work.  He leans his head forward, hiding his face in Paul’s neck. His own hands grabbing onto Paul’s sides, unable to do anything else.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Fidel starts. “What if a student comes in?”

Paul cups his face, his thumb stroking his lips. “The door’s locked.” He says before kissing him. Biting his lower lip, opening his mouth, inviting him in, as his hand move to grab his hair.

With a twist of Paul’s wrist, Fidel moans loudly, echoing against the tiles. He stops moving for a moment, scared the whole school heard it. But Paul’s hands bring him back to what they’re doing. Stroking him at the right pace, exactly how he likes it. “Oh god.”

“You like this, huh.” Paul says in a breath.

“I do.” Fidel bites his lower lip, looking at Paul’s face, as if it had been carved out of marble by one of the great… He can’t remember any artist’s name right now, but it’s a damn good one. He gets lost in Paul’s eyes for a moment. Blue, like the hottest part of a flame. “I like you.” He lets the words pass his lips, not realizing exactly what he says.

“Oh?” Paul moves back, as if stopping everything altogether.

“I love you.” Fidel whispers and grabs him, pushing their body back together.

“I like that better.” Paul replies in a whisper as well, his voice deep and hoarse. Then he kisses him. Hard. His hand tightening its grip on him, keeping him on edge.

He breaks the kiss, takes his hand off Fidel who moans and leans forward, chasing him, craving his touch. Fidel frowns as he watches him take a good look at him.

“You’re gorgeous.”

Fidel looks down at himself. Shirtless, pants pushed down to his knees. There’s probably a better sight than this. But right now, he doesn’t care. All he cares about is Paul, closer, kissing him, doing things to him. Anything. Something.

And Paul delivers yet again.

He gets down on his knees, push Fidel back against the wall. Takes him in his hand and brings him to his lips. The skin is warm. Paul’s lips are wet. And everything Fidel needed. One hand flat against the tiles, the other grabs onto the nearby counter as Paul takes him in his mouth and starts some slow movement with his hand. This is too much. They’re going to get caught. He’s going to come too fast.

Thankfully, Paul knows exactly what to do to keep him on the edge. The right amount of pressure, the right speed.

Fidel opens his eyes when Paul takes his mouth off him. He’s grinning up at him, taking a breath. He keeps his gaze locked into Fidel’s eyes as he darts his tongue out and licks up from base to head. Hands following the movement, stroking him slowly. Fidel can’t help but grab Paul’s head, stroke his hair. Gently pushing him back against him. So Paul takes him in his mouth again. This time, he goes as low as he can. Comes back up, before sucking him in again.

Just the sight of Paul taking him in could be enough to send him over the edge, but Paul is really, really good at this game. He stops and Fidel moans from the lack of action, suction, anything.

“Paul…” He growls. Paul smiles wider. Fidel knows he loves to draw it out, make it last. But they don’t have time. “Come on, Paul.” And yet again, Paul takes him in his mouth.

-

It’s the moans that wake him up, but it’s Fidel’s hand grabbing his wrist that forces him to open his eyes. Fidel’s are closed, his whole body tense. Paul feels his heart racing before he realizes Fidel is dreaming. His breaths are short, sweat drops on his forehead. And a visible bulge in his underwear.

Paul smiles at that sight. Fidel is having sexy dream. A really good one, it seems. He gets closer, his lips ghosting over Fidel’s. Pondering if he should wake him with a kiss. Or something better…

He lets his hand wander over Fidel’s body, not yet touching him. He looks down, slides his hand under the covers, under the underwear and takes Fidel in hand.

The feeling of a warm hand on his body wakes Fidel up. He opens his eyes to Paul looking back at him. He frowns, not understanding. One second ago, Paul was blowing him in a bathroom. “What….?”

“You were dreaming.” Paul tells him as he moves closer, buries his head in Fidel’s neck, breathing in deeply, loving the scent of him. “About me, I hope.” He adds in a chuckle.

“Yeah… Yeah.” Fidel says as he gently grabs his head and breaks their embrace. He looks at Paul’s face. Sees the desire in his eyes. Sees the love. They really are here, in their bed, at home. In the middle of the night. “We were…having sex in a bathroom. At the school.”

“Huh huh…” Is all Paul says, grinning wider.

“We’re not doing that.” Fidel shakes his head. “We’re never doing that. I’m not up for it.”

“Ah si? But you are up right now.” Paul’s smile makes Fidel’s heart jump in his ribcage. He loves this man so much. And he intends to prove it to him. He leans in and kisses him. Slow, taking his time. No one is going to stop them.

His hands push Paul back against the bed, and Fidel moves on top of him to straddle him. He hands stroking Paul’s hair move lower, to rest on his chest, holding him up. “I love you.” He says in a breath, kissing Paul again before he says anything. And Paul lets him. Responds to him by kissing him harder, hand grabbing his hair exactly how Fidel likes it. Hard, but not too much. Just enough to feel the pull but not to hurt.

They break the kiss to breath, and Fidel sits back onto Paul’s thighs, appreciating the sight. They both sleep shirtless, but not naked and right now there are layers of clothes separating them that Fidel would like gone. So he moves off of Paul, and takes the matter into his own hands. He slides the underwear off his legs, then takes his own off.

He looks back at Paul who had been watching him, also appreciating the sight. Fidel shakes his head as he sits back down on the bed by Paul’s side. “What?” Paul exclaims with a smile. “Your butt is pretty fine!” He lets his hand wander down Fidel’s body, resting it on the small of his back, just above his butt.

“I’ve heard it is, indeed.” Fidel cocks his head, smiling proudly. Paul chuckles and moves to kneel beside Fidel.

“Oh you heard? Who’s been telling you?” He leans in, whispering.

“A very naked man…” Fidel trails a finger down his chest. “Currently in my bed.”

“My bed!” Paul exclaims as he pushes Fidel back onto the bed and straddles him.

“Our bed.” Fidel says to settle the matter. He smiles, Paul smiles back. There’s no other place he would like to be. Everything he needs is right here.

“I love you.” Paul says. His voice is calm, but his soul isn’t. There’s a tempest in there, feelings overcoming him. And it shows in his eyes. He never said those words before, he never said them and meant them this much.

Fidel fills his heart swelling. Saying those words felt like a huge step to him, but hearing them, that’s quite something else. Before he lets himself be overcome by feelings and reflections about his life and everything that’s changed to the point he’s naked, in a bed, with a man who he loves making love to- He stops that train of thoughts and kisses said man. His man. His boyfriend. His lover. His partner. His everything.

Paul deepens the kiss as he lowers his body. Their skin touch, and it’s like a fire is awakened. The kiss turns into a hungry one, bodies colliding, hands moving quickly, stroking the other’s hair, their back, grabbing onto each other’s thighs.

They move together, as one, bodies connected from their mouth to their chest to their groin to their tangled legs. Everything they need is right here.

Hands start to move from grabbing onto each other’s bodies to moving in-between their bodies. Stroking at the right pace, with the right pressure.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Fidel says, out of breath, resting his forehead against Paul’s shoulder. “Wait.”

“What?” Paul whispers against his ear, hands moving from in between them to stroke Fidel’s hair.

“Let’s take our time.”

“Okay.” Paul replies, pushing Fidel’s head up, before slowly kissing his lips.

“Maybe not that slow.” Fidel adds as he moves back. He turns around, extends his arm and reaches for the lube on the nightstand. He moves back into his place and gives the lube to Paul. He takes it, opens it, and coats his fingers. Fidel smiles, kisses him sweetly before turning around and laying on his back, head propped up on his arms. He spreads his legs a bit and lets Paul do all the work.

Paul leaves a trail of kisses down his back to his butt. With one expert hand, he applies some lube before pushing one finger inside.

Fidel hisses at the feeling of Paul breaching him. They haven’t done this in way too long. Paul kisses his back, stroking his thigh with his free hand.

It doesn’t take too long for Fidel to warm up to it and for Paul to add another finger. And a third one.

Fidel isn’t exactly writhing underneath him but he’s close to when Paul finally takes his fingers out and slides a condom on. He considers it for a second before moving back up to Fidel’s face. He kisses his shoulder before guiding him to turn around.

“I want to see your pretty face.”

Fidel smiles, a smile that could light up the whole world but right now, fires up Paul’s heart. He kisses him deeply before settling on top of him. Fidel’s hands come to rest on his back and his legs embraces Paul as he settles between them.

“Come on.” Fidel says to urge him on, this close to rutting against him. He tries to kiss him but Paul escapes him with a smile.

“You want this, huh.”

“I do, come on now Paul.” Yes he does want this. Maybe six months ago, he wouldn’t have but right now, all he wants is for Paul to start fucking him or else he’s going to go mad.

Paul can see the frustration building up. He’d play with it but decides not to this time. He’ll save it for one of their Sabados Solos.

He guides himself him, getting one long throaty moan out of Fidel. He tightens his embrace and hides his face in his neck. As Paul slides deeper into him, he bites him, out of pain and out of pleasure. Until Paul is fully into him and he stops moving, letting him get used to it.

But Fidel doesn’t want slow or soft. He wants it now. So, he starts moving his hips, trying to get Paul to move as well. Paul only smiles into Fidel’s neck. He starts kissing him, keeping his hips still.

“Paul…” Fidel’s voice is so low and hoarse, Paul can’t resist it. He starts moving his hips, not even going slow at first. Fidel’s voice spurs him on, he thrust into him fast, hard.

Fidel bites into him, moaning, groaning against his skin, arms holding onto Paul so tight he’s going to leave some bruises. But Paul can take it. And he does. He moves as quick as he can, before slowing down to nudge Fidel to look at him. “I love you.” He says in a whisper as he looks into Fidel’s eyes. They’re filled with desire. Lust. Love. He kisses him hard as he picks up the rhythm again. He won’t last long.

He wanted to take this nice and slow, but he’s losing control. He breaks the kiss for a breath, a moan, his whole body tensing up, arms shaking. And he comes. He kisses Fidel again, a hot sloppy kiss as he can barely control himself as the orgasm runs through him. “I love you.” He repeats against his lips.

He’s never said those words like that. He’s never lost control like that. “I love you.” He says again. And with that, Fidel comes. His legs and arms holding onto Paul so tight, unable to breath, his muscles so tense he feels like he’s going to explode. And it’s what he does.

“I love you.” He replies, his voice nearly lost in his throat. But Paul hears him and kisses him again, before slumping down beside him.

He exhales loudly, takes the condom off and throws it in the bin. Fidel reaches for tissues on the nightstand and cleans them both.

Then they settle against each other, Paul resting his head on Fidel’s chest, a hand on top of his heart, listening and feeling his heartbeat. Everything falls into place. Silence settles over them, only the sound of their breathing slowing down.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! 
> 
> This was written because I was working on translating the Paul/Matias scenes and because we haven't had any significant kiss in a while. So there. 
> 
> If you do like it, feel free to tell me in the comments or on twitter, or somewhere, just so I know I didn't fuck it up too much. I'm no writer, I don't often write, so positive feedback is always appreciated.


End file.
